


The Trident

by M_Mortimer



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-07 12:46:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 19,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18620923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M_Mortimer/pseuds/M_Mortimer
Summary: Protector of the seas, of the magic, of the bindings, of the curses; she is everywhere and nowhere, here and there, in front and behind, above and below, inside and out; she is loyal to the waves which give her life and power, commanding them as a captain commands his ship. The magical lands, beings, creatures and artefacts are under her protection, none shall touch if she is around.I wrote this in about four days after watching Salazar's Revenge.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amphitrite is pronounced 'am-fey-tri-tee' as the Greek mythologies go and her Roman counterpart is Salacia, I changed her role a little from wife of Poseidon to sister of Poseidon, so I mean no harm to how the literature originally presents her; to me she is a character in this random story.

Before the sky and the sea touched, before humans learned of the power of metal and fire, before they understood what the gods wanted for them, what lay in store for them when the ground trembled and when the seas roared. Far out across the ocean, in areas uncharted by any man, a terrible storm ravaged its way across the waves, picking them up in the strong winds and throwing them down with flashes of lighting and thunder that shook the rocks in the deepest chasms below. Three people could be seen through the sea spray, wind and piercing rain, clothed in armour built for one battle to end all battles; one man wore gold and white, brandishing a bolt of lightning; the second wore silver and white, lifting the seas with his trident and shouting into the howling winds; and the third was a woman, shining in blue and silver, eyes raging red with the blood that dripped from her nose. In her hands was the rage she carried for the men before her, commanding the storm towards them and opening the sea with her fingers, swirling and spinning until she could see the floor, rocky and razor sharp. The man in gold and white spoke to her with aggression in his tone but softness in his eyes, trying to calm her, make her see sense in what she was doing but the woman snatched the lightning bolt from his hands and threw it at the second man, only just dodging it by diving beneath the swell. Zeus searched for his brother in the foam and the spray, lifting him up into the clouds,

“She will destroy us all,” Zeus informed him seriously, a hint of fear beneath golden eyes, “The rage of a god is too strong,” his brother looked down on the woman, ducking when she sent a torrent of boiling water their way before raising her hands, the earth shaking beneath her. Smoke and fire poured out from the sea bed, a monstrous form growing before their eyes, one of rock and blood. The woman jabbed her hand out, aiming for the two men lying atop a grey cloud, safe and protected from the storm, and a tower of jagged rocks threw them from the sky. She cried out in anger when they did not fall, righting themselves and she sent an onslaught of red hot mountains towards them, dripping with the mantel from beneath the earth, like they were fire breathing dragons advancing on their prey,

“Amphitrite!” Zeus knocked a mountain from his path, using the winds to fly straight at her, “Stop this madness!”

“This is power!” She retaliated, splitting the earth further and letting fire spill out of the sea, mingling with the salt and seeping into her veins, “You dare to try to take it for yourself!” Amphitrite stood on top of a mount, high above the sea and surrounded by her chaos, billowing smoke and breathing oceans, roaring fires and smouldering waves, “You dare put your hands on me! You dare to defile my soul!” But her rage was starting to grow out of control, the sky splitting in two and the moon darkening with the sizzling of her crimson eyes, “Am I not your equal? As Poseidon is? As Hades is? Brother?” Tears turned to steam on her cheeks, looking up at him as he readied a bolt of lightning, gold and white with starlight, “What would you have me do?” That terrorising aggression had returned and she slashed him, cutting the skin of his hands with blades of ice but he held fast on the lightning, “Submit to you?” Her bellow had him almost falling to his knees,

“Never submit, Amphitrite,” Poseidon appeared behind her, trident still in hand, “Trust us, we can help you control this,” she closed her eyes, seemingly in thought but she shook her head,

“I don’t want to control it,” Amphitrite whispered, “Do you fear me brother? This power?” In her hand, salty water moulded into the body of a small squid, its tentacles curling around her fingers lovingly, “Do you fear my strength over you?”

“Only the curse that possesses you,” he closed her fist and the squid squealed as it returned to it’s watery form, “Let us take it from you, free you from this rage,”

“NO!” Poseidon was thrown back by the force of her power, a shock wave emitting from her chest, from her soul which glowed a hazy amber, cracking and searing her skin, “I already am free!”

“Amphitrite!” There was a sharp pain, erupting from between her shoulder blades and through her chest, exploding her heart, “Amphitrite,” Zeus dragged her further down on the lightning bolt, moulded expertly into a spear with a point of white metal and a staff of glinting gold, “You cannot control this,”

“Please,” Poseidon returned before her and held her shoulders, jaw squaring when he saw the blade of the spear appear beneath her collar bone, glowing faintly, “It is for the good of all of us,” he lifted his trident and Amphitrite cried out when he pierced her skin opposite the spear of Zeus.

Her soul shattered, splitting open and from its shell seeped rivers of lava, burning and roiling like the sea. It dripped from her chest and down, down to the depths of the chasm she had pried open with her fingers, resting there as a mass of pure rage, the blackened soul of a god to curse the earth for an eternity. Amphitrite fell to her knees; Poseidon in front of her, the prongs of his trident slipping and slicing into her further, and Zeus behind her with his spear of light, thumb wiping a drop of glittering blood from the wound. They held her together, watching as the sea swallowed her rage, her curse and extinguished it, snuffing out the light that could have destroyed them, and the earth.

“Come brother,” Zeus urged his kin, pulling the spear from Amphitrite and cradling her against his chest, handing the weapon over to Poseidon, “Do what you must to protect her,” her head lolled against his arm, “To protect us,”

Poseidon held his trident opposite the spear, pressing them together with the force of two planets colliding, moulding them together to form a weapon that had three prongs, but emitted a fury found only in the eye of a storm, lighting rippling at its centre with a gentle amber hue.

“No man can find this,” he told his brother, stroking Amphitrite’s forehead and kissing her cheek, “To break it would release the rage back into her body, and then we will all be doomed,” Zeus stood up with Amphitrite against his chest, looking around at the ominous islands and mountains she had created around them, a glint of malice seeping into his eyes,

“Have her bare the curses of the sea,” he suggested wittingly and Poseidon made to interject, “She will not know, this memory no longer exists in her mind,” the god of the sea quieted at his brother’s words, holding his arms out for his sister,

“Let me bring her home,” he said gently, not to anger Zeus, “She will wake and think nothing of anything, you can trust me not to tell her,” he added and allowed Amphitrite’s weight to fall against him, stroking her fiery hair out of her face. Zeus squeezed his shoulder and nodded solemnly,

“It had to be done,” he disappeared in a flash of brilliant light, the mount smoking in his absence and Poseidon looked at his sister’s face, stroking her jaw with a familiar love. Then he glanced down at her chest, a wound of three forks burned into her skin, ugly and discoloured; a reminder of what they did to her and he sighed heavily. Rain began to fall upon them, soft and warm,

“Curses you shall bare, but divide the trident and they shall be lifted from all,” Poseidon kissed her, “Divide the trident, and your rage shall return,”


	2. Chapter 2

She stood aboard the ship, tied to its main mast with several thick ropes, the ends being held by many of the crew, all looking at her with terror and disgust. Their captain came forward with a shout of revenge, of a promise to free her from her human bonds, a promise to give her back to the sea. Amphitrite only pretended to listen, gazing at the horizon, gazing past the sun where another ship came into view, one bigger and bolder, one with more power and strength, one of a more noble cause. A fire was lit at her feet and doused with a variety of fragrant oils, herbs catching alight when they were thrown on but the heat did not burn her, it only tickled her skin,

“Do you not understand when a curse is real, and when it is not?” She tells them but they spit at her, calling her bluff and accusing her of lying, of deceit, of betrayal, of treason, of murder, of everything imaginable. All the while, the fire is growing and so is the ship on the horizon, getting closer and closer with each gust of wind that rips through the sails. Amphitrite rolled her eyes and curled her toes, clearing her throat, “Your teeth are black, your flags are black, and your blood will be black as it mingles with my seas,” her threat flows into the wind, allowing it to reach the ears of the captain looking at them through his eyeglass. He sees the pirate ship glowing on the horizon, a figure tied to the main mast as though for a sacrifice and his hatred for the filth only grew. Smoke billowed into the wind from the fire on the deck and he alerted his helmsman to set a course for the pirates, readying the cannons for an easy victory. The ship was close enough to be seen clearly without the eyeglass and he ordered his men into position with a rehearsed grace, words falling true on their ears. But as they got within firing range of the pirate ship, a colossal crack shook the waters beneath them and the ship collapsed in on itself, as if a monster had claimed it from below. More smoke escaped the waves and his crew went silent as they watched the bodies float to the surface along with the wreckage of their former target,

“ _Capitan_?” Everyone on the ship knew of the power of the sea, the strength of the waves that lapped against their boat, they had seen the destruction it left, the death it caused, the victims it claimed,

“ _A survivor_ ,” the helmsman pointed over the aft, a halo of red approaching them fast, pearly skin stark against the dark wood she was lying on. Her mouth was open, gasping for air when they lifted her into the longboat, wrapping a cotton shroud around her nude figure and carrying her on to their ship,

“A pirate? Or an innocent?” The men queried among themselves, watching her through the bars of the hold having placed her there on their captain’s orders,

“Time will tell,” he had told them, “For now, watch her,”

Amphitrite knew they were sat outside the bars, waiting for her to wake up, speaking in Spanish about the smoothness of her skin, the fire in her hair, the sheen on her cheeks. They had at least the decency to cover her nakedness with a shroud, and when she groaned, pulling it further around her shoulders; the men jumped to their feet and began chatting to each other, calling for the captain, calling for food and water, calling for clothes.

“Your name?” One asked in a less than polite voice and she considered making one up, to remain anonymous but curiosity got the better of her, stating what the gods called her and several men recoiled in shock, not believing their ears,

“ _Captain_?” He came down the steps, holding on to the rail for balance and cast his eyes towards his captive, the only survivor of a pirate ship that had been claimed by the sea itself, “ _She has the name of a god_ ,”

“My mother was a superstitious woman, I have a brother named Poseidon,” she enjoyed saying those words, knowing them to by partly true and the captain sauntered up to the bars of the cell, eyeing the way she was barely holding up the shroud to cover herself, hair still damp and dripping with sea water,

“What were you doing on that ship?” He asked her and Amphitrite recoiled for a moment, suddenly not prepared at all to answer that question,

“I am not a pirate if that is your concern,” she said instead, “those rats meant nothing to me,”

“How did the ship fall, the sea does not - it cannot - we have not seen -,” one of the lieutenants stuttered out and Amphitrite smiled to herself, remembering the fire that sparked her desire to prove to those filthy men that they did indeed have a being on their ship who caused havoc, who caused chaos, who brought death but also life. When the deck of the ship began to crack under her weight, the beams buckling and splitting, the crew holding on to her fast but instead of ‘escaping her human bonds’ like they had wanted; Amphitrite had walked through the ropes tying her to the mast and she raised her arms with a battle cry. And the ship was claimed by the sea, opening its mouth and swallowing the vessel, splitting it in two, claiming all the lives of the pirates, leaving only her to survive because the sea was hers, it would never kill its commander and lover.

“The sea was ready to take what was hers,” her tongue spoke in riddles, her accent ringing out through all of their bones, “They will be claimed by the Flying Dutchman and be rid from this world,”

“ _Witch_!” Someone cried, pointing an accusing finger at her and Amphitrite started to shake, lifting her shroud up to cover herself from their prying eyes, “ _Daughter of the Devil_!”

“That’s what the pirates believed and look what happened to them,” her threat was empty but still had the accusers cowering into the corner,

“I shall speak alone to her,” the captain had been listening and watching the whole time, not leaving the bars of the cell, almost close enough to touch but he unlocked the door and led her away, up the steps and on to the main deck of the ship. It was a large one, bigger than any she had been on in a hundred years, smooth and rich, carved and finished with an air of wealth, precision and love; the ship of a powerful man, of a powerful navy. The crew stared at her as she passed them, looking her up and down and reminding her that she was bare beneath the shroud though many of their gazes were not ravenous, not mouth watering like those of the pirates; they were longing, as if they had not seen or touched a female in a thousand years. Amphitrite peered at the back of the captain, a tall man with wide shoulders and she wondered if he felt the same way, if he had not felt the hand of a woman in a time long forgotten.

His cabin was smart, ornate, perfect for an officer of the Spanish navy and he opened a cabinet, taking out a long coat for her and handing it over,

“I am not cold,” she saw him tense at her words, thrusting the coat at her,

“Put it on, you bring enough ill will as it is; I will not have you tempting - my crew,” Captain Salazar dared not look at her, confirming her suspicions and Amphitrite inched closer, bypassing the coat and allowing his hand to brush the cotton at her ribs,

“Do I tempt you captain?” She asked in a shy, barely sultry voice and Salazar turned away, clenching his jaw and flexing the veins in his neck,

“How did you come to be on that ship?” He asked the same question as earlier, trying desperately to ignore the warmth of her skin beneath his forearm, feeling it through his thick coat and shirt, “What was your business with the pirates?” He spat the word, coming to his senses and hanging his offering over the back of a chair that stood before a grand oak desk, piles of paper and books littering the surface.

Amphitrite gave a small sigh and backed away from him, “They destroyed my own vessel,” she noticed Salazar’s eyes flick to her face, “I was transporting goods from my lands, spices, fruits, obsidian,” her voice mindlessly listed off trading items she had experienced in her lifetimes; a thin blade of obsidian, black as the night and sharp as a razor, had become her possession from a sunken wreck carrying gold and copper, and it was her most beloved weapon as a human woman, such as she is now.

“They found no precious cargo and killed the crew, took me and three other women captive, took us further away from out home that we had ever been,” the Caribbean was actually quite the opposite, her and her brother’s domain only a few thousand miles from where she was now, “I refused to be whored like my kin,” she forced herself to shed a tear at the imagined memory of the two woman being shared by the crew, “I cursed their forefathers and they pointed the finger as your own crew did,” her accusation fell on Salazar like a flood, rounding the desk to stand directly before her,  
“Do not compare my crew to that of those murders, those pillagers, those rapists, the filth,” he spat at her feet and Amphitrite raised an eyebrow, anger lifting her heart and the waves around them, “You have no place here woman, no means to survive on the sea,”

“My dear _Capitan_ , you forget my name,” their faces were a hairs breadth away, lips barely touching, “I have many yes, and most cannot be said in the tongue of mortals for it is poison. But there is one you know, I saw it in your eyes, do not deny me the pleasure,” she murmured and Salazar turned his head away, leaning against his desk with shallow pants,

“It is forbidden,” he growled, “To utter such a name on the sea when it is angry, to say it when you are not calling for her, when you are not summoning her before you,”

“She is already before you,” Amphitrite touched his shoulder and Salazar flinched, but did not move away from her,

“ _Salacia_ ,” it was refreshing to hear that from a mortal man, bathing in the way it rolled off his tongue, however reluctant he was to say it, “You must leave my ship, I cannot house you here, I have nothing to offer,”

Amphitrite grinned wolfishly but decided against her desires, taking the coat he had offered her previously, tucking it over her shoulders,

“Do not fear _Capitan_ , I shall bring no ill will nor curse your children,” she though she saw the brief flit of a smile on his face, “I wish to stay with you, with your crew who shall not know who I am,” there was a hint of malice beneath her tones and Amphitrite sat on the seat beneath the huge windows looking out at the horizon, “I am only an innocent victim who is very much interested in how you plan to cleanse the seas of infection,”


	3. Chapter 3

Captain Salazar assured his crew she was not a witch nor a pirate and they accepted her residence on their ship until the next port, gifting her with a small cabin of her own and a chest of shirts, trousers and waist coats. Amphitrite chose against boots, feeling the scratch of the wood beneath her soles and the splinters pricking her toes, it had been decades since she had stayed so long in human form and it was - new. The strength in her legs returned with each day, exploring the ship, lifting sacks of potatoes and flour for the cook, pulling ropes and levers with the crew when they were short of hands, staring out at her beautiful sea during the day and lying beneath the clear sky at night, more often than not joined by a high ranking lieutenant who told her about the constellations and the stories behind their names. There was a time, an evening after the crew of the Silent Mary had destroyed a lone pirate ship, sailing up alongside it and pounding away for what seemed like hours until there was nothing left; only wood and limbs floating on the sea’s surface. Amphitrite gave the dead her blessing, urging her nymphs to take them to the Flying Dutchman, doing what she could not and that same evening, when the sun was low against the horizon, sending off a faint reddish glow that matched the hue in her eyes; Captain Salazar approached her cautiously. She was stood at the stern, against the bannister on the main deck, looking out beyond the bust of Athena and curling her arms around her stomach, a far fetched attempt at comfort. 

“It’s a pleasant night, no?” He asked, coming to stand next to her, straight backed and rigid, hands clasped behind him and chest thrown out into the wind. Amphitrite slouched on her elbows, throwing her hair over one shoulder and turning to look at him with heavy lidded eyes,

“Pleasant,” she agreed half heartedly, “Your performance today was - eye opening,” Salazar raised an eyebrow at her words, “I understand now why I send so many to the locker, so many men, barely shells of what they once were,”

He shook his head with a forced laugh, “Men? No, no no,” eyes shining, he relaxed his posture, placing a hand close to her elbow on the bannister, “Pirates, you ferry the blackened souls of pirates,”

“Yes, and it is a difficult task, draining,” Amphitrite sighed, twisting where she stood and leaning back against her arms, propping herself up against the wood, “To bless all those men, showing them where the ropes are to the Dutchman,” Salazar grew impatient, raising a fist and squeezing it tightly,

“Pirates, not men!” His voice was thick and venomous but Amphitrite took no notice, dipping her head back, the movement causing her shirt to fall open, revealing the pale expanse of her sternum, the smooth space between her breasts,

“All men who die at sea have my blessing,” she answered him slowly, “Innocent or not,” But Salazar was no longer listening, eyeing the scar dimpling her skin. It was red and raw, as if she had only just sustained it, wrinkling the skin and pulling at her muscles,

“Where did you get this?” Without realising it, he had lifted his hand and begun tracing the scar, a singular gash forking upwards into three; a raw and harsh shape, like a trident.

“A long time ago,” Amphitrite let his hand fall flat against the scar, squeezing her eyes shut and breathing into him, lifting her chest to his touch, “Before the days of men and mermaids, a necessary wound to protect the seas,” those long fingers stroked upwards to her throat, testing his strength against the temptations of her skin and pulse, fluttering like a tiny bird beneath his thumb,

“And has it? Protected us?” Salazar’s face fell beneath her jaw, nose running along the tendons that tensed in her neck,  
“For a thousand years, of so my brother says,” they were so close; breaths mingling, eyelashes touching, lips swallowing each others words. He let her move into him, taking his bottom lip between hers, fisting the material of his coat. The kiss was barely there, a touch so soft he had to keep his eyes open to make sure it really happened. His other hand found her waist, pulling her into his chest and letting her kiss him fully, fingers travelling back down from her throat to the scar before dipping further into her shirt. The first touch had her gasping into him, enclosing his hand in hers and urging him on,

“ _Armando_ ,” she whispered his name, a blessing upon her lips, a sigh that had him pulling away from her attentive mouth,

“I can’t-,” he started but Amphitrite kissed beneath his ear and pressed herself against him, her heat seeping through his uniform,

“If you can’t, then send me away, be rid of me,” her words sent chills down his spine, “Never to see me again,”

“I do not think I could bare that,” Salazar told her truthfully, “And neither could my crew,”

They kissed once more, soft and gentle, hands still dipping against supple skin and fingers touching hearts before Amphitrite disappeared from his grip, slinking down the steps and out of view, her shirt still open to reveal the column of her throat, and that pink scar that shone against the moonlight.

 

There were a few who still believed she was a witch, come to curse them all, whispering prayers as she passed them, clutching rosaries in their fists and kissing it when she entered the captain’s quarters. And so when, during the second week of her residence, they circled her and second lieutenant Mosse both holding rapiers; it was promising to see her fail in blocking every strike he sent her,

“Use your feet more madam,” he said helpfully, rapping the flat of his blade against her calf and she buckled, falling to one knee with flushed cheeks and a losing frown. But her mind was whirling, spinning with the effort not to whip out her own blade and take on the entire ship,

“I’m sorry,” she gasped for breath and ungracefully got to her feet, “I am bested by a master, I have no hope in beating you sir,” Mosse chuckled and lay his sword down, bowing in respect,

“I am no master, _El Capitan_ holds that title,” Salazar was watching them from the top deck, behind the wheel with his helmsman and he had a soft look about his face, grinning when his crew urged him down to duel with her, “Come, he will be a better partner,”

He had been; in allowing her to hold the wheel for fleeting moments, holding his hands over hers so she didn’t slip; when he invited her to dine with him in his quarters where in the privacy of his office, he asked her about the sea, innocent stories that had him reminiscing his own tales; when he walked with her through the ships decks, neither talking and allowing their elbows to touch lightly, sharing flitting glances at each other; when he gathered with his lieutenants and spoke with them, conversations Amphitrite dropped in on with her own experience of the sea, never letting on that she was not an innocent bystander of a trading vessel. When Salazar came down those steps and on to the slatted cover of the hold, releasing his sword; he gave her a knowing smile, intending to have her succumb to the want to reveal her skills,

“Show them,” he told her, bowing as she did before lunging with the speed of a shark to its prey. Amphitrite squeaked and ducked from his path, trying her best to block and parry as the crew had shown her, stumbling backwards around the deck with Salazar always after her with a look on his face that made her flush. He discarded his uniformed jacket when she dropped her sword and slammed backwards into the steps below the wheel,

“Do not hide Salacia,” he called out, “You have power just like these men, show it to them,” Amphitrite growled, rising to his challenge and the crew noticed a change come about her, the way she held herself taller, her skin emitting an aura that tantalised their senses and ensnared their minds. The ringing of the swords broke their thoughts, watching Amphitrite dipping and sliding, coiling and thrusting, stabbing and rolling around their captain like she had fought a thousand men a thousand times. This was entertainment, this was the show they had been waiting for, bored from watching her be bested by the lieutenants, bored from hearing her fall to the floor with pitiful squeaks and grunts.

But her hair was wild around her head, having fallen from its braid and a smile graced her lips, lighting her features and Captain Salazar, who was starting to have a difficult time, noticed a faint glow around her pupils, feeling the prick of her blade against his neck,

“You have no idea what I have to reveal to you _Capitan_ ,” her words were suggestive, but only to him and Salazar laughed gutturally in response, rising as she did and they began to dance around one another. He slapped her legs with his sword and tripped her, catching her by the waist and drawing her to his chest with firm fingers and his breath rolled across her face; she twirled under his arms and flashed behind him, rapping smartly on his backside, catching him off guard but coming forward to him, aiming a square punch to his shoulder and letting her fingers drag across his jugular. The crew cheered them on, not caring for how their captain was beginning to look rather disheveled from the duel; his hair falling from its ribbon around his face, his shirt falling open and sticking to his skin with sweat, a wide smile gracing his lips. Amphitrite looked much the same, rolling up her sleeves and brushing her hair from her face, laughing and hissing when she dodged his attacks, defending herself before launching towards him. Her strength was frightening,raining down blows and forcing Salazar to his knees until she caught his wrist with her blade and flicked his sword from his grasp, pointing her own at his chest. There was a pregnant silence, all watching to see if this innocent survivor ran their captain through but Amphitrite gave him a soft smile, lowering her sword and holding out her hand, pulling him from the deck.

“You fight well,” he staggered out between heaving breaths and Amphitrite laughed,

“I can do many things well,” there was a glint in her eyes, the same he saw when she first came aboard, when she was standing there in her cotton shroud, bare and revealing to him.

Salazar pursued it, finding her in the usual spot at the bow of the ship, looking out across the sea, letting her hand fall to the waves where they reached up and kissed her fingertips. She looked calm tonight, relaxed and sleepy, stretching her back out and pulling her hair away from her neck, revealing her throat to him, a move he had pitifully fallen for not two nights ago. Salazar could not help himself, stepping forwards behind her, moving stray strands of hair from his path, running his nose to her pulse point, smelling salt and sweat, and something else, something hypnotising,

“ _Mi amour,_ ” she murmured when he kissed her jaw and turned her so he could kiss her mouth. He bent over her, crowding her space, invading her senses and she moaned against him, enjoying the taste of him, “Take me however you want, I am yours,” Salazar heeded her words and lifted her from the perch, leading her with purposeful footsteps to his quarters, locking the doors behind him and removing his coat. Amphitrite slinked up behind him, wrapping her hands into his shirt and moving her lips against his neck as he had done to her, lifting his shirt away and coming to stand in front of him. She said nothing, though she dearly wanted to tell him that he was the most beautiful mortal she had ever had the pleasure of laying with, so she kissed him instead, rolling her eyes at the taste and allowing him to bring her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her and not planning on letting her go any time soon. They moved as if in a dance, spinning over to the cushioned bench beneath the windows facing out to sea, the moon illuminating her skin as she removed her shirt, that spear-like scar catching his eye. He wondered how many mortal men Amphitrite had revealed herself to, if she had been in the same position with others younger than him, richer than him, stronger than him; if she had plans to use him for her pleasure and then disappear into the dark waves below,

“Shhh,” she whispered, untying his hair from the ribbon, scraping her nails against his scalp and tipping his head back so she could kiss him, “I can feel you thinking, relax _mi amou_ r,” Salazar grunted at her words and shifted his hips, letting her roll into him, pushing him gently so his back hit the plain blue cushions behind him, reclining with Amphitrite in his lap, “Let me feel you,” she lifted herself up, hands pressing into his stomach and she rutted her core against him, cloth still separating them but the pleasure was still there, her mouth falling open when Salazar squeezed her behind, pushing her down into him harder and faster,

“Here,” his fingers went to the ties of her trousers, dipping beneath the waist band and his touch sent her shivering into him, dropping her head into the crook of his shoulder. They worked together, Amphitrite standing for a moment to remove her trousers and Salazar kept her there, eyes unabashedly filtering how ethereal she looked, skin glowing with the moon and hair tangling over her shoulders from where he had been carding his hands through it. She dropped to her knees suddenly, crawling between his legs and picking the buttons of his trousers, watching his head fall back when she kissed his pubic bone. Salazar hissed and grunted when her mouth descended on him, fingers stroking her cheek and then round to the back of her head where he pulled her up from the floor,

“I feel I cannot get enough of you,” she told him sincerely, settling herself down on to him with a withering moan and a shudder. Salazar could not get the words out, focusing only on the way she ground down on him, wrapping his arms around her back and keeping her pressed tightly against his chest, mouth tracing the soft skin of her breasts. Amphitrite moved a little faster, a little harder, swirling her hips and bucking upwards, dragging her nails over his shoulder which forced a strangled groan from his lips, her own swallowing the sound with pride. He thrust up into her, using his left hand as leverage against the bench and Amphitrite’s hair tangled in his right hand, her head falling back when he tugged sharply,

“Mine,” Salazar’s teeth scraped over her jugular, controlling her movements with his hips and his arms, letting her shake and twist against him with heaving breaths, contorting once and then twice before falling against him. There was a sound that sounded like a prayer that escaped her lips and Salazar pulled her up in his arms, carrying her through a second set of doors only to lay her down on a narrow but plush bed, the linen cream and crumpled from his impromptu sleep earlier in the day. Amphitrite gave a loud cry when he pushed back into her, lifting her thighs so they were nearly over his shoulders, leaning down and kissing her with need. Her hands scraped his hair from his face, biting his bottom lip and staring at him, her face a mix of pleasure and wonder; reaching a point with him where they both writhed into each other before falling still.

Salazar could not stop touching her, laying with her head in his chest, legs tangled together and her fingers playing with his,

“How old are you?” He asked suddenly, voice piercing the silence and Amphitrite squeezed his hands,

“As old as the sea,” she replied and Salazar tensed slightly, relaxing when she leaned up to kiss him,

“And the men you have lain with?” The question causing her to sigh and lean up on her elbow, tracing his face with glowing amber eyes, smiling when she sensed possession and jealousy running through his veins,

“No mortal has enticed me as you have, one develops a certain taste when all they come across are whales and pirates,” she felt him laugh at her words, pulling her into his lap, mouth hot against hers,

“And how do I taste?” He asked, stroking up her thighs and into the gap between them, lips barely leaving hers to say the words,

“I cannot get enough of you _mi amour_ ,”


	4. Chapter 4

The day they made port was a difficult one, the crew knowing their jewel was going to leave them, the captain knowing he may not see her again. During the days leading up to this, the island appearing over the horizon, the hustle of its people reaching her ears; they barely left each others side, memorising each line of the others body and lips, talking about what should happen if they meet again, if they don’t, if one or the other might die - a thought neither was delighted about.

“We will see each other again,” they were alone on a slim dock on the other side of the island, away from prying eyes who would report back to his crew, or his superiors, “You forget, _mi amour_ ,” she kissed him, holding his hands close to her heart, “You sail the seas that I protect, I feel every wave, every ship in every bay, harbour and inlet; you will always be near,” they kissed again, hard and mindless, Salazar lifting her into his chest and remembering their last kiss; in the throes of passion, Amphitrite rutting hard against his hips, her hands wrapping around his shoulders to connect their mouths before he travelled lower to her sternum.

“There is one thing about you _Capitan_ ,” she muttered against his lips, feeling him tense against her, “Mortal men do not hold back, I see them kiss and then I see them take,” she knew his arousal for her was tempting, “You only give,”

Amphitrite withdrew from his arms, kissing him one last time before leaping into the crystal waters beyond the dock. Salazar rushed to follow, his eyes tracing a silvery tail flicking away to the coral reefs and to the ocean, a singular dorsal fin, frilled and sharp cut the surface for a moment followed by a tail fin of magnificent pearlescent white, flapping and propelling her beneath the waves.

Dusk was always his favourite time of the day. Warm, crisp, a delicate wind lifting the hair Amphitrite had pulled from the ribbon, letting salt and rum invade his senses along with the memory of her skin on his. He would see her again, if it be in light and heat, or darkness and shadow.

 

She hears of destruction on her watch, fire and burning and death in her waves and currents, the heat drawing her in and showing her the path of chaos left behind by a Spanish Naval ship. She blessed the dead, sending them on their way to be ferried to the locker by the Flying Dutchman before going after the naval ship, catching up and managing to get aboard. Her magic allowed her to go about the ship unseen and unheard, robed in a sheer dress fastened by a pearl at her shoulder, her red hair damp from the sea and salt shining over her skin. The captain’s quarters were easy to find, she had been aboard ships larger than this, and smaller than this and she slinked into his private rooms where he is sat alone at a large polished wooden table, thinking over the days deeds; a position she has seen him in many times before. Her lips whispering in his ear and causing him to sit up a little straighter,

“ _Mi amour_ ,” the man stands up, almost knocking the chair over and he whirls around, finding her stood by the window, her figure illuminated by the sun, “You are in my waters, staining them,”

“I am cleansing them,” Salazar was so breathless are her being there, not moving an inch, tensing his muscles when she floated over to him with a graceless laugh, “Infections need burning out of the blood,”

“The chaos you leave taints my domain as much as those rodents do,” a rage falls over him, one she had experienced before, seen before, felt before, watching him raise his sword at her and then watching it turn to water in his hands; wetting his uniform and boots,

“I am saving the ocean, ridding it of the disease, of the pollution, of the terrors,” they way he remained standing his ground, in the damp patch on the ornate rugs, Amphitrite felt her desire for him grow, “I am helping you,” his gaze upon her softened and she lifted her fingers to his face, “Salacia,” the name came from his lips without his knowing, allowing her to bring his head down so she could kiss him. He was harder than she remembered, gripping her with a need and a want she could not control,

“Armando,” it was a warning, “Please,” her fingers went to his jugular and wrenched her mouth free from his onslaught, “I told you that you were different from mortals, that you give yet I fear you may only take tonight,”

“I am so close Salacia,” he runs his lips over her jaw and to her pulse, biting a mark there before moving to her collar bones, “The seas are nearly rid of the disease, pirates shall rule them no more,”

“And you will?”

Salazar stopped, pulling away from her, “You know I would not take that from you,” his gaze was sincere, voice quiet and subdue, a different man from the one a moment ago, “I live to serve and protect the sea, to serve and protect you,”

“You live because you must,” Amphitrite rested her ear against his chest, listening to his beating heart and he kissed the top of her head, “I appreciate what you are doing Armando, but please,” her eyes begged him, desperate and fearing, “Do not stray too far into the dark, I don’t think I would be able to pull you out,” they kissed again, wanting, needing, pulling, falling against a cabinet where Salazar lifted her into his arms, slouching off his uniform jacket and looping her legs around his waist. The material of her dress pulled tightly over her skin and he dipped his head to her shoulder, letting her hands dip down the back of his shirt and around his shoulders, flicking stray pieces of hair from out of his face. And when he slid into her, barley loosening the ties on his trousers; they drowned against each other, Amphitrite a slave to his desire. Salazar was loosing a battle within himself, rutting against her hard and prompting tiny gasps from her lips with each long stroke, lifting her legs higher, hooking one into the crook of his elbow, catching her chin in a tight grip, panting against her lips before kissing her. She wound her arms around his neck, crying out as he pressed tightly into her, slamming a hand on to the polished wood beside her head with a choked grunt before tucking her into his chest and humming with content,

“I have missed you,” he said softly and Amphitrite let out a deep sigh,

“Me, or my body,” Salazar licked his lips and lifted a hand to her breast,

“Both,” they smiled at each other and he set her down, lending a shoulder to lean on when her legs failed beneath her, “I thought the gods felt no pain,” there was a smugness in his tone, causing Amphitrite to burn up,  
“An ache, _mi amour_ , delicious and raw,” she replied heatedly, rearranging her dress, smoothing out the wrinkled and creases. Salazar aided her, shifting the strap back up her shoulder and kissing the spot where it sat,

“How long?” He whispered against her, feeling a drop in her bones,  
“I am not sure, but please,” Amphitrite turned around to face him, looking up into his eyes, “Do not give me a reason to return unless it is your heart calling for me,”


	5. Chapter 5

The rocks towered far above and far below, a jagged blade piercing the soft swells of the sea, surrounded by a dark fog that seeped to destroy the mind and invade the senses with poison. Amphitrite had only heard of this place from her brothers, telling her never to go near it for it was too tempting for her, too dangerous, to venomous to her very being. She had never asked what or why, following their rules as she always had but the red hot pull to the caves caught her arms and fins, pulling her in, swallowing her up like a great fanged mouth. Her head remained just above the surface of the water, cutting through the shrinking currents until the water around her was flat and calm, but with a stillness that was seen only in the dead. The fog cleared ahead and Amphitrite swerved around several spines hidden in the calm, her eyes never leaving the monstrous image before her. 

A ship floated, barely a shell of what it used to be, its underbelly jagged ribs and empty decks, its main mast cracked and splintered, hanging low in the water. Nothing moved above it and Amphitrite wondered when this tragedy had occurred, since she had neither heard nor sensed it, her job to bless the dead had not been called upon for this event. She slinked out of the water, not bothering to dress herself because she was sure she was alone, climbing up the salt stained ropes and peering around the main deck. There was a familiar feeling about this ship, the rotting wood beneath her feet and the reddened sails sparking something in her memory. The top deck held all of the grandness it used to, the great wheel creaking and slowly moving as if someone was still steering it and Amphitrite held a hand to her mouth, a wisp of white silk resting over her bared skin, painful shivers racking her body.

Shadows appeared before her, bodies of men but broken and burned, hollow chests and charred faces, spaces where their smiles used to be, swords floating before them in invisible fists.

“ _Salacia_ ,” that voice, it was croaked and wheezy, bubbling with something that made tears prick her eyes, “ _Salacia_ ,” someone came up behind her, another shadow, one with a walking stick and heavy feet, one with a smoking uniformed jacket that had once graced her shoulders, one with hair that curled and floated around his grey face like a halo, one with skin cracked like porcelain, one with blood as black as his eyes, spilling from between his lips,

“No,” she withdrew from his outstretched hand, fingers shaking but not with want, with rage, eyes burning the same amber hers did, “What have you done?”

“Death has taken us,” he waved that same hand around at his crew, “The Devil has cursed us, only to be freed by the little bird who brought us here,” he was trembling all over, inky blood tracking rivulets over his chin, “We have not seen daylight for twenty years,”

“ _Mi amour,_ ” her words made him smile, “I could help,” she touched him, gently, her fingers brushing his cracked cheek that at first he did not feel but when he focused on her, the path those digits left were hot and raw, “I don’t know how to break this curse _mi amour_ ,” the crew gasped when both her hands found his jaw, the cracks slowly filling and healing, his hair falling to his shoulders as it once did and colour returned to his skin, “But I could give you peace, even for a short while,”

Captain Salazar only laughed at her, drawing her near and placing his lips above her ear, “Only the little bird can save me,” he breathed her temple, withdrawing with a snarl when his body decayed and crumbled without her touch, “I will hunt him down and run my blade across his throat,”

The rage in his eyes was familiar, as though they were sharing it, as though it was her own. Amphitrite cast a weary eye around at the crew who was staring at them with emptiness and blank faces,

“I cannot stay,” she forced out, suddenly growing agitated, as if the very air she was breathing was laced with something, something foul and infuriating, “This place, it’s not - I must leave,” Salazar rapped his walking stick on the deck, a guttural, hollow laugh echoing through the caves and caverns surrounding them. The fog stirred, the sea beginning to churn with Amphitrite’s discomfort, the forked scar on her chest beginning to ache and burn,  
“Do the dead scare you mi amour?” He asked maliciously, “Do I disgust you? Is this face in your nightmares? Am I no longer a curiosity for your pleasures because I am no longer mortal?”

“You know that is not true,” her words cut through him like a knife, “You mean the world to me,”

“Then why is this the first time I have seen you for twenty two years!” His voice started out sharp and loud, cracking towards the end and he spluttered, “Did the Dutchman find no need for you to bless us? Is that why we still exist, why we are still bound to this earth?” Amphitrite fisted her hair with his questions, stumbling backwards when he advanced,  
“No, no,” she spoke hysterically, “I felt no death, the sea did not tell me of your falling,” she looked at him directly with wide glowing eyes, “I would have known the instant the breath left your lungs,” the crew began to disperse back into the darkness, leaving the two to talk passionately to each other, the space between them shortening with every word, “Even now, there is no death here,”

“Ah but don’t you see,” Salazar pulled her hand to his face, then pressed it to his chest, “Don’t you feel? My heart is gone, my soul filled with a rage only the devil knows,” again, that anger seeped into her veins, fusing with her very being as if it was hers, striking the centre of her sternum and deep into her core, “I have no life left, there is nothing left of me for you,” they were breathing each other, lips touching but not warming, the blackened blood spotting her skin, “Leave if you will, only to return again, and again to this accursed place, to me,” she careened into him, his lips hard and dry, but the same as she had always known.

As with their duels and snappish arguments in the past, Amphitrite always surprised him with biting comments or slaps of her sword on the backs of his thighs. But the thought of kissing the dead filled him with horror, shunting her away from him in disgust,

“Why would you do such a thing?” He could see she was upset but she did not move to follow him backwards, “I am a corpse, cold and rotten,” the black stains on her mouth only reminded him of what she did, “Touching me is poison to you,”

“I do not care,” Amphitrite saw him stumble with his walking cane, getting it caught in an invisible hole which allowed her to advance on him like he was her prey, “ _Mi amour_ ,” she kissed him again, sighing against his mouth when he fisted the back of her dress, clawing at her skin,

“I feel you,” Salazar said disbelievingly, breathless, “You are warm, so warm,” his walls shredded with every kiss she gave him, “and full, you are here,”

The rage left his soul for a moment, leeching into her skin and into her bones through those sharp prongs etched on her chest, sending shivers down her spine. Slowly, piece by piece, his body began to meld back to life as it did when Amphitrite had touched him previously. The strength returned to his veins and the colour grew in his cheeks, swinging her body to rest against the cracked bannister of the steps leading up to the top deck. He collapsed against her, licking into her mouth, squeezing her cheeks, her shoulders, her hips, ghosting over her breasts and when she moaned; Salazar hoisted his thigh between hers. They pulled apart and rested their foreheads together, too weary to open their eyes, too afraid to see the other. Amber met darkness and the cracks returned to his skin, blood slipping from his mouth and he skulked away into the shadows,

“Leave,” Salazar told her quietly, full of shame and anger, “Please,”

“Let me -,”

“LEAVE!” Amphitrite threw herself over the side of the dead ship, swimming away with the strength of a whale, her fins propelling her further and further away from that accursed place and when she broke the surface to look back over her shoulder; she swore she heard a guttural, defeated howl.


	6. Chapter 6

There came a violent shudder deep within her core, forcing her back into human form and to the bottom of the sea. Amphitrite couldn’t even find the strength to breathe a bubble around herself, anchoring her knees to the sand and grinding her teeth through the pain that steadily engulfed her very soul. Something was breaking, crumbling, being reclaimed by the sea, something of her own hands but she could not figure out what; her dealings were with life. The quaking continued, burning the skin on her chest, filling the lines of her pronged scar and glowing a dull red, pulsing a strange heat into the water around her. A ship sailed from the fog and the tallest mount crashed into the ocean, forcing the earth to crack beneath her, sending a force outwards from her skin; rippling through the water far and wide. A feeling filled her like never before, a rage that clawed into her mouth and down her throat, choking her and squeezing her lungs, wrapping tightly around her heart. It frightened her, this feeling, for she had sensed it before, twice; in the place where he lay, waiting for daylight, waiting for the day that little bird betrayed his compass. It was stronger the second time she visited, that rage, the deep seated darkness in her gut as she quietly boarded the dead ship, passing through the shadows unseen. She knew that he had told her never to come back, and she truly had not wanted to; afraid of him and of the place, feeling it anchor to her soul,

“Why do you tempt me Salacia?” He sounded older than the last time, wheezing and creaking with the ship. The point of his blade traced a sharp line from her wrist, up her arm and to her neck, settling there as if it needed time to rest, “You come here with your breath, your heartbeat, your life; tempting me with something I will never have and again I ask you, why?”

Amphitrite did not turn around, “I - I don’t - I,”

“A god stands here on my ship, bright as a star, and she stutters,” Salazar laughs croakily, “You fear me,” he was suddenly too close to her, inky blood dripping from his mouth on to her shoulder, running his nose to where his sword still lay against her neck, “Say it, say you are afraid,” he demanded, though he whispered it and Amphitrite flinched, letting out a small gasp and a shiver,  
“I am not - afraid,” his hand came up to remove her hair from where it fell, twisting it in his fingers and stroking it gently, pressing it to her other shoulder,

“I don’t believe you Salacia,” Salazar taunted her, fingers ghosting the freckles on the back of her neck and between her shoulder blades, tracing the jagged scar there, knowing that it had a brother on her chest. The memory of her pale skin in the moonlight withered him slightly, seeing her spread out beneath him surrounded by a halo of fire, her hair rippling like the sea in a storm. She had come to him that night after sending a merchant ship off to Davy Jones’ locker, a ship of children and she had begged him to help her forget, help her erase their faces from her mind and he had let her cry when he kissed her, turning those cries to ones of pleasure after a few moments.

Amphitrite was crying before him now, her robes grey and creased, long like the dress of a funeral and he came to stand in front of her, pressing his thumb into the path of a tear,

“Shh,” Salazar felt his heart break, what little of it that was left, “I am sorry,”

“Armando,” she brought his mouth to hers, life leeching into him so he could baste in her warmth for a little while. He sighed against her, pushing her into the crumbled remains of his desk, still smouldering with ash, fisting her dress and lifting it to reveal her thighs, cradling them around his waist, “I cannot -,” Amphitrite’s head tipped back and she clawed at his hand over her breast, but from pain, from the surge in her heart, from the stinging of her skin,  
“Yes, you can,” he mumbled, lips never parting from beneath her jaw when he pulled back to kiss her mouth, he saw the stains of his blood marking her and the hands over her exposed breasts cracked and dead, “What have you done? What is happening?”

Salazar held her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him and he saw, deep in her eyes; a fire, small and flickering, but red and hot, a sheen of sweat covering her skin,

“It’s here,” he confirmed, Amphitrite opening her mouth but a pained moan only interrupted her words, “This place, it poisons you,”

“Yet I still come to you,” she ground her teeth through the pain, “You have my heart Armando,” he smiled sadly,

“The dead cannot hold the heart of a god,” Salazar said, stepping away from her, “You must go now, leave,”

Amphitrite did not move, from the pain rooting her to the spot and the way he looked at her; he was concerned, nervous for her lifeline and when he held out his hand, Amphitrite let their fingers entwine for a moment. She felt him lean a little on his rusting sword and she pulled away, disappearing from the ship with a whisper of sea spray and a kiss to his forehead.

The memory brought her back to the bottom of the sea, hearing her name being whispered, then spoken, then shouted; a voice she had not heard for years. Amphitrite opened her eyes and stood up, the reddish hue in her eyes never dwindling but not growing either, the strength returning to her legs. She began to swim upwards, towards the dark shape overhead, the voice calling her name getting louder and clearer, quietening only when she leapt from the waves and on to the main deck, bared for all to see.

Pirates surrounded her in varying states of shock, distress and arousal but only one came forward to speak to her, one with a golden leg and a cane to help him walk, but did not deter the purpose and defiance in his walk,

“Amphitrite, I summon you to do the sea’s bidding,” Captain Barbossa bowed with a flourish and angrily urged his men to do the same,

“I already do that, captain, there’s no need for pleasantries and summonings,” she waved her hands in dismissal, “What do you want?”

“I wish to know things, stories, only ye would know,” there was a glint in his bloodshot eyes and Amphitrite grew tense, a dress of light green materialised over her figure and she followed Barbossa across the deck and up to his quarters, staring at every man who dared plant their eyes anywhere other than her face,

“Your men are disgusting,” she commented dryly and sat down on a chair at a table laden with golden plates and maps,

“They’re pirates lassie,” Barbossa sat next to her and propped his golden stump on a plush red pillow, “What do ye know of the dead?” Her eyes flickered to him, alerting him of a blaze that wasn’t there the last time he saw her, “Ghosts that sail the seas, destroying my ships, stealing my rule,”

“Mortals do not rule the sea,” Amphitrite snapped, voice dropping an octave,

“El Matador Del Mar ain’t mortal, he’s dead,” Barbossa knew of Salazar, of the chaos he was wrecking over her seas,

“He will come for the Sparrow, Jack,” she admitted quietly, “He will kill Jack and take the trident,”

“He’s coming for us first,” the pirate saw her eyes flash and he prepared himself for something, a violent act or punishment for angering her but nothing came, only the sound of her pounding heart,  
“What are you doing?” Amphitrite looked so very small in that chair, recoiling in on herself and clutching the scar on her chest, “Why would you sail for the dead? He is full of rage, full of terror, full of revenge and you would meet him on the seas - I do not want to send you to the locker Hector,” he put his hand over hers in comfort,

“What be that on your chest? A scar? I thought gods were immortal,” he asked curiously,

“I have been told that the wound was necessary, to protect the seas but I do not remember baring it, like something has taken that memory from me,” Amphitrite leaned forward slightly and pulled down her dress, exposing the scar fully to him and Barbossa traced the three forks with his finger,

“A trident,” they looked at each other, both wounded and afraid.


	7. Chapter 7

“I want ye to stay hidden,” Barbossa stood on the balcony overlooking the main deck, a spyglass held to his eye and the shell of a ship in his view, “He sees ye then we be all dead,”

Amphitrite knew he spoke the truth, if Salazar, the butcher of the seas, saw her among pirates; there would be no mercy for anyone, not even her. So she obeys him, slinking down into the shadows beneath the captain’s quarters, her eyes fixed on the Silent Mary that crept closer and closer. Barbossa called for his men to stand their ground and show no fear, to be ready for the dead to come aboard and when he turned back to the horizon; the mouth of the Silent Mary was upon him, the stern lifting from the water and towering over, planks of wood and cannon balls falling from her hull,

“Captain Salazar!” Barbossa shouted, looking up into the underbelly of the ship with no fear on his face, “I hear you be looking for Jack Sparrow!”

Then the dead were before them. The living held their ground as their captain had told them, shaking in their boots as ghosts slammed down on to the deck and pulled out swords, pointing them at throats and stomachs. Some of the Spanish were barely there, only hats and swords to show their presence and some were as solid looking as the men, as the man who dropped down behind Barbossa and Amphitrite put her hand over her mouth, seeing him in daylight for the first time since his falling. It was a sight to behold, terrifying and sad, his sword heavy in his hand acting as a cane and the cracks in his face deeper than ever before,

“My name is Captain Barbossa and I stand before you,” he gestured to his crew, “with cordial intent,”

Captain Salazar laughed, hollow and deep, “I don’t need your cordial intent,” he hissed, “Do you hear that?” The crew snarled up and around at the pirates, “This pirate wishes to be cordial, well, let me show you what my cordiality is. Every time I tap my sword,” Salazar dented the wood, “One of your men will die,” and the living became the dead, “So I suggest you speak quickly,” his sword chimed three times and three men fell, their bodies prompting Amphitrite from her hiding place, her face appearing half shrouded in darkness. Barbossa gave her a sharp look, one that did not go unnoticed by Salazar,

“What is it? Who do you look for?” He rapped his sword twice more and two slumps came as a reply, “Might want to speak a bit faster Captain,” Amphitrite retreated back to the shadows with shaking hands,

“Jack be sailing for the trident,” Barbossa’s words sparked interest in the god and rage in the dead,

“No, the sea belongs to death,” Salazar turned away from him in anger, his face twisting and contorting,

“The trident controls the seas,” again, Barbossa sent Amphitrite a strange look, one that was both knowing and curious,

“No, no, no, there is no treasure,” Salazar spat, slamming his sword into the wood at his feet, “There is no treasure! You cannot save him, he will die with you!” The blade went to Barbossa’s throat and it took all of Amphitrite’s strength to remain where she was,

“I be the only one who can lead you to him,” he spoke quickly and with an air of dominance, “I declare you should have Jack’s life by sunrise or you can take me own then,” Salazar dropped his weapon, “Do we have an accord?” Barbossa visibly withheld a flinch when his opponent crowded into his face,

“You take me to him, and you will live to tell the tale,” Salazar said menacingly, never leaving Barbossa’s space,

“You have me word, and me crew’s,”

There came seven taps of a rusting sword and Salazar waved his hand,

“You can take what’s left of them,” he turned to the ship and shouted, “The living come aboard,”

Amphitrite waited until there was a pause in the chaos, stepping over dead bodies and around puddles of blood, hearing the groans of the Silent Mary as the crew of the Queen Anne’s Revenge boarded her. She could not find Barbossa but she knew he was with Salazar, the dead not letting the living out of his sight and it was an obstacle she had not anticipated; she was not gifted in the foresight like her aunt. As the Silent Mary pulled away, she pressed her forehead to the mast of the Queen Anne, whispering ancient words to protect it and keep it safe before rolling the dead over the side, into the water with gentle kisses to their foreheads. Although they were pirates, filthy and infectious; they were still men and mortal, they still deserved an afterlife and when she dived into the waves after them, the familiar creaks and groans of a ship long spent sailing the seabed spurred her on. Amphitrite’s head broke the surface and she followed the Silent Mary cautiously, shifting closer and closer until she was able to touch the rotten beams that used to be the hull. It turned northwards suddenly, a direction that had a rather ominous pull to it, one that hooked deep in her belly and wrenched her forwards.

 

Morning light broke the clouds, Amphitrite finding herself clutching the jagged wood that held together the point of the ship on the stern, hiding in the shadows of Athena’s bust, grumbling at the sight of her dearly beloved cousin. She could hear Salazar talking, passionately and then dangerously, poison in his words and on his tongue; speaking of a past she did not know about, the day of this death.

He told the tale of how the last pirates in the Caribbean allied to try to defeat him, but failing miserably and begging him for mercy, finding nothing but bullets and gunpowder; a pain spreading from the scar on her chest. Salazar spoke of Jack Sparrow, only a boy then, rallying his crew and sailing towards the Devil’s Triangle in a last ditch attempt to destroy the Silent Mary, and he had succeeded. It was with a perfectly timed bootleg turn that Jack Sparrow outran Armando Salazar, sending him into the depths of the cave and sending him to his death. Amphitrite could hear the explosions of the ship, hear the screams of the crew and the hissing of the curse that laid itself down over their souls. She could feel it, blanketing her own soul, clutching her with burning claws and tendrils of molten rage, a familiar grasp that had her choking on her breath and squeezing her chest,

“What is that? What do you have?” Salazar’s rage grew with her’s, lifting his sword to Barbossa, “Who else is here in your crew?”

He could feel her, as if she was kneeling before him with strained pants and flushed skin, grunting with an unfamiliar pain.

“ _Salacia_ ,” Barbossa raised an eyebrow in curiosity, “Where is she?”

“Why would I bring a sea witch onto ye ship without telling ye?” He replied hastily, knowing full well that Amphitrite was with them, on the ship, though he didn’t know where,

“God, she is a god,” Salazar’s mouth filled with black blood and it swelled down his chin, “Tell me where she is!” He shouted and slammed his sword down, his crew driving the weapons against Barbossa’s men,

“There Captain, found as promised,” he pointed out to the horizon and Amphitrite spotted it; a tiny speck against the rising sun, a ship for a bird who was running from the dead.


	8. Chapter 8

Amphitrite pushed herself closer to the water, draping her hand into the blue waves, letting the foam come up to kiss her finger tips; decidedly ignoring the chaos on the main deck and what was left of the ones below. Captain Salazar had his crew preparing something, several somethings, dead like them and the putrid smell reached her nose. Rotting fish made her stomach heave slightly and she looked over her shoulder into the sea, hearing three colossal splashes behind her but her eyes and ears focused on something else. There, up ahead, aiming for the small green island was a small rowing boat containing three people, one of them being Jack Sparrow. Amphitrite leapt up, leaning as far out as she let herself, eyes following three dark shapes passing her in the water, passing the ship and disappearing beyond the stern,

“Kill the Sparrow,” she heard his voice clear as day from above her, throwing herself away from his deadened gaze, “ _I feel you_ ,” a whisper reached her ears, sending icy chills over her skin, calmed only by the waves into which she dived into; her legs joining into a silvery tail and pushing her after the black shapes.

They were sharks, three of them; carcasses bewitched the same as the crew of the Silent Mary, swimming with unnatural life towards the row boat, not noticing the streaks of silver and red coming up behind them. Amphitrite gave a cry and propelled herself out of the water, arcing over the row boat, over the heads of Jack and a young boy, into the body of a shark that had the same idea as she. They landed back in the sea, struggling against each other until one of it’s teeth caught her arm, drawing a cloud of blood from the wound that closed as quickly as it was opened,

“Was that a -?” The boy, Henry, lay flat against the bottom of the row boat, still in Jack Sparrow’s arms where he had pulled the boy from the advancing jaws of the shark,

“A mermaid mate?” He confirmed, “yeah, and a damn nice looking one at that,” something slammed into the boat and threw the two men around, a second shark snapping its jaws on to the paddle Henry held like a sword. Beneath the roiling waves, Amphitrite challenged the bigger shark, a great white with holes in its head and body, eaten away by rot and death. It suddenly swam at her with an open mouth, those triangular teeth pointed at her neck.

A sword made of blackened glass appeared in her fist and she lopped its head off, diverging out of its way. The two halves twitched for a moment before falling to the sea bed, as a rightful corpse should. The second shark, a hammer head much in the same degree of decomposition had attached itself to the side of the row boat, thrashing its body around to try and take a bite of the inhabitants. Amphitrite launched on to its whirling tail and flailed about herself, pulling the shark free and launching it away, only for it to right itself and come charging straight back. Her sword was embedded between its eyes as it crashed into her, pushing her back with a force known only by the dead, pushing her into the side of the boat before meeting the same fate as its partner. She turned to the last shark, smaller but no less rotting and dangerous, and found that it was already being occupied by Jack Sparrow who had thrown a large pike hook into its mouth and send it on its way.

Amphitrite’s chest ached when the dead walked on water, running from the Silent Mary with swords raised and mouths open with cries of battle. But the dead did not distract her from the splashing up ahead, the bubbles and foam mixing with the fear from the boy, swimming for his life towards the shore. Henry had jumped from the boat a few seconds ago, abandoning Jack for the sharks and the army but it seemed his luck had changed for the last shark, the one with the hook in its mouth, the one pulling Jack along in his boat; was heading straight for him. The pirate surfed the waves away from Salazar, speeding along and crashing about with the anger of the shark, rearing its head to take a bite of Henry, who only had a split second of warning from Jack before something grabbed hold of him and pulled him from the path of both the undead shark, and the boat.

Amphitrite held his face in her hands and checked for injury, letting him gaze at her in the dappled sunlight. The first time this boy had seen a mermaid and it was when she had pulled him from the path of the dead, who picked up their speed when Jack grew closer and closer to the shore. Henry began to swim again, pitifully kicking his legs and waving his arms, so Amphitrite took those arms in hers and pulled him forth, propelling them forward with her tail, far from the army above them and within breathing distance of the land. With a surge of strength and a yelp from the wound on her arm, she launched Henry through the air, fifty or so yards he sailed before landing heavily on the beach near to where Jack had suffered the same fate of his boat and shark. The girl, Carina, the one with the map, had already pulled herself from the rolling waves clad only in her undergarments, having seen sense earlier than the males and swam for life before the army could catch up. She looked up into the faces of the dead, screaming for ghosts and sprinting off into the trees, disappearing from view.

“Carina!” Henry made to follow her, traipsing over fallen trees and brambles,

“Jack Sparrow,” Salazar made his move to advance on the pirate, as did his men but Amphitrite saw, to her horror, that when one stepped foot on dry land; he screamed out and turned to dust, floating away on the breeze. The dead made no further movements, pausing their onslaught, “I will be waiting for you _hombre_ ,” Jack picked himself up at the Spaniard’s words and hurried off after his boy and his map, muttering to himself and paying no mind to the glowing amber eyes that followed him into the trees. Amphitrite’s head broke the surface of the water for a moment, a split second and her name flew from Salazar’s mouth, asking for her, asking where she was because he could feel her near.

She swam back to the boat faster than had ever done before, lifting herself into the skeletal hull and beginning her search for Barbossa, to warn him of what was to come,

“He cannot step foot on dry land,” her voice reached his ears as he stood manning the wheel, the arrow of the compass following Jack as he navigated through the trees several hundred meters away. The splashing of an advancing army on the water sent the Barbossa’s crew into a panic, “He will kill your men,” she told him, coming to stand by his side and his eyes saw the slim cut on her arm, “You must bargain your life,”

“Aye, I intent to lassie,” he sent her a cheeky wink, gulping when the dead appeared on the main deck and began rounding up his crew with high pitched screams and wails, pointing their swords at beating hearts and skewering them when their captain tapped his foot on the floor. Barbossa turned to Amphitrite but only wallowed in the space she had left, hearing the a faint splash to his right and his eyes caught the glint of a silver tail as it disappeared beneath the waves.

Amphitrite could hear Salazar killing the pirates one by one, having stung them up from the sails so they dangled upside-down before him. The rage that filled him and fuelled his actions, his slithering words, his blackened threats had her thrashing about in the water, pain stinging her eyes and catching on her chest,

“I promise ye on me honour, that the traitor will be yours,” the muffled attempts of Barbossa bargaining with Salazar barely reached her ears, the high pitched screams and wails of the dead, her dead, filling her mind. The cursed called for her, the men she had sent to the locker, the men she had kissed and blessed, the men she had taken care of when all that was left was their shattered souls. It seemed that was all that was left of her, a sphere of boiling energy engulfing her body, turning her back into a human. Salazar’s anger was hers for a moment, erupting from the tips of her fingers and deep within her soul,

“Honour?” He shouted, “What honour!” She shook with rage, bones quaking with a power she had never felt before, the sky clouding with black clouds and angry wind, “You have no honour!”

“Spare me life, and I’ll fetch ye Jack Sparrow,” a blade lifted at the words and plunged towards a heart but the clouds split and spat a bolt of lightning, blue and gold, striking the deck of the Silent Mary millimetres from where Salazar was standing. The whole ship went stock still, glancing up at the sky, finding it clear and bright, the sun beating down on them with fiery hands,

“ _Salacia_ ,” the name had her eyes opening beneath the water, blazing hot and red for a moment before dwindling with the fizzling at her fingers. They were blackened from the lightning she had summoned, saving a pirate’s life and angering the dead. Salazar looked up to the sky and then over the side of his ship, casting his eyes for a flash of silver or a kiss of red but seeing nothing of her. He turned back to Barbossa, stepping purposefully in the scorch marks left on the wood of his ship and he raised his sword once again, looking the pirate directly in the eye before cutting him free to fetch him the little bird.


	9. Chapter 9

She saw them from the shore, her eyes just breaking the surface so see a one Jack Sparrow racing towards the rocks holding a small bottle. His crew was running after him, all shouting words of encouragement because they we’re getting the Pearl back, the Black Pearl of legends she had written and been apart of. The bottle suddenly broke, the water spilling over Jack’s hands and he dropped the small ship, all of them watching as it grew, dipping into a rock pool before halting, a mere fraction of the size it was supposed to be. Amphitrite ducked beneath the water, swimming alongside the rocks and whispering to the warm currents, her eyes following the other pirate, one of power and gold, one of the living and the dead picked up the Pearl and he locked gazes with her for a moment, as if he knew she was there the whole time. She smiled as he thew it into the waves, calm and crystal, allowing the crew and the captains to see the flash of her tail curl towards the falling ship. Amphitrite brought her hands to her the small model vessel and it resumed growing, quicker than before, swallowing the sea around it, swelling with water and life, bringing Amphitrite up with it, splitting the surface and rocking forwards on its bow,

“I believe this ship belongs to you gentlemen,” it was refreshing hearing an exotic voice such as hers, the crew raising their eyes to where she was leaning over the bannister of the main deck, clad in a semi-see through blue dress made of silk and satin, adorned with gold beads and black pearls, “You have a race to win,” Amphitrite grinned down at them, recognising a few of the men and those that did not know her, stared up in awe at her as if they had never seen a god before.

Captain Barbossa approached her first, standing next to her as they looked out over the crew rushing about the deck to made the ship fly, make the ship cut through the waves, drive the ship onwards,

“That was a very brave thing ye did Amphitrite,” he told her, in the most gentle voice he could, “Double crossing a maestro, I might make an honest pirate of ye,” Amphitrite craned her head and the clouds opened, letting the sun blaze down on to her face, illuminating the delicate pearlescent scales that littered her cheeks and jaw like freckles,

“I should take that as an insult,” her eyes closed and she saw the Silent Mary pulling forth, the dead being carried effortlessly by her sea, by her own power, “He is near,”

“We will outrun him,” Barbossa pulled out his sword and rapped it on the wheel, bellowing out several orders to his men, “Stay with us,” she knew he meant to keep her safe, away from the rage of the Spaniard; the dead can kill gods the same way they can kill the living, “Stay with us lassie,”

Amphitrite smiled gently, “The trident, I feel it, like it is pulling me in,” Barbossa gave her a short look, eyeing the dimpled scar over her sternum,

“Aye, I feel it too,” fingers brushed her skin and Amphitrite let him trace the scar, “Ye have a connection to the trident, as ye have a connection with the sea,” she considered his words, “I think ye playing a bigger part in this, ye more than the memory of a dead captain,”

“Speak of me in that way again, and I shall abandon you,” she threatened, voice lowering with the setting of the sun, “I have been protecting you ever since you summoned me,”

“Aye, but not in the way ye think _Salacia,”_ Barbossa spoke of her in the common tongue, hardening her anger, “He doesn’t kill me crew because he feels ye here _Salacia_ ,” the name grew venomous, “Ye have a shared soul, I plan to use that against him,”

Amphitrite dipped her head, “You threaten me Captain? You threaten a god?”

“No, I ask for ye assistance,” he said defiantly, “Ye would do anything to stop the dead getting his hands on the trident,” again his eyes went to the scar, pulling away from her skin and closing her shirt, “Even if it meant sacrificing ye-self,”

Barbossa took to the deck and left Amphitrite alone in the darkening light,

“He’s right you know,” Jack Sparrow held her gaze until she stood before him on the stern, eyeing the ropes tying him to the front mast and he grinned charmingly at her, “about the trident, about not letting you know who get his hands on it,” he looked at her chest, “You wouldn’t let him get within two feet of you,”

“Always with your riddles Jack,” Amphitrite sighed, bracing her hip on the bannister of the ship, looking out to where the sea touched the sky,

“This one ain’t, love,” he said sincerely, “What ever gave you that trident,” he referenced her skin, “Is what we’ll find wherever this lovely lady takes us, with the map no man can read,” Amphitrite looked over at Carina, seeing her talk to Barbossa and something tugged at her heart with the way he looked at her, like he was seeing stars fall from the sky and the moon crumbling before him,

“What did you say her name was?” She asked Jack who shuffled around in his bonds to face Barbossa, “Carina was it?”

“Smyth, Carina - Smyth,”

“She has his eyes,” Amphitrite whispered with wonder, watching Barbossa thunder away from Carina as if she had said something to him, something that shook him to his core,

“I’m sure I knew a Smyth,” Jack began loudly, “We all knew a Smyth I suppose,” he rolled his head in Amphitrite’s direction but found her gone, a sprinkling of salty spray hitting his face and Barbossa pulled out his sword, daring him to say another word.

“We will take this to our graves,” he growled and Jack smirked,

“Gods don’t have graves mate,” Barbossa looked into the wind, to where Amphitrite was standing near Carina with an expression on her face that made him lunge forward but their conversation hit his ears, forcing him to a stop,

“You read the skies like you are up there yourself,” Amphitrite was saying gently, “It is rare for a mortal to have that quality,”

“Was that a compliment?” Carina raised an eyebrow, looking up to the stars and turning the wheel a fraction to remain in the right direction,  
“Of the highest regard,”

Barbossa lowered his sword and turned back to Jack, cheeks flushed with anger,

“I’m surprised you still don’t trust her,” the captive mused, “Surely after she gave you that heart, you’re in her eternal debt?” he nodded to Barbossa’s chest and grinned, catching him a trap that was impossible to climb out of, “She’s a god mate, do ye really think she’ll betray us for the dead?”

 

“If you are a god, why are you down here and not up there?” Carina asked curiously, with an air of confidence,

“Because my domain is on earth, to protect the seas, its power rests in me,” Amphitrite replied, almost in a bored way, as if she had repeated this many times to many people,

“But science has proved gods do not exist, there is no way you can be real,” the wind picked up slightly,

“Can science prove the dead coming back to haunt us?” She said, “I heard you talking with the Turner boy, the myths of the sea are powerful and very much real,”

Carina thought for a moment before speaking, “He said that you were a mermaid,” Amphitrite nodded,

“The men I send to the locker should have their last touch from a siren, their deepest desire,”

“You entrap them?” The mortal was horrified but Amphitrite came to her with wide and hysterical eyes,   
“No, no! The locker is the resting place for all those who die at sea,” she explained quickly, “I send them to the Flying Dutchman, a ship that sails between realms and ferries them to their afterlife, men of innocence and guilt,”

“Men like that ghost?” Carina’s question caught Amphitrite off guard, slinking back to the bannister and leaning over it, spotting the ship with the broken mast a good distance away in the darkness, surrounded by storm clouds and lightning,

“He asked me that once,” she reminisced quietly, “A very long time ago and I could not answer him then, I cannot answer you now. I don’t know why he is not in the locker, when I fell from his ship in fire and anger, he was cursed to his resting place and disappeared from my reach,” Carina grew weary of her words, “I feel all those who die on my seas,”

The two women went quiet, nervous in each other’s company,

“I admit, I have read the tales of your husband, his power over the seas,” the mortal began but Amphitrite let out a cackling laugh, clutching her belly,

“Husband?” She spluttered out, “No, Poseidon is my brother,” Carina nodded her head as if she completely understood what Amphitrite said, “The tales like to - exaggerate the details of my relationship with him,”

“They actually make no mention of you,” Carina adjusted her course once again, following the three brightest stars in the sky, prompting Amphitrite to look up as well. Lightning flashed into her vision and crippled her, a figure stood before her raising his weapon to her heart, a shadow falling over her face and she could see the stars in the background,

“This is your map?” Her voice was distant, quiet, a little afraid,

“Are you feeling well?” Carina asked gently, “What’s the matter?”

“I have to leave,” Amphitrite was visibly trembling, turning a ghastly pale and the scar on her chest began to throb, bruising with each aching breath she rattled in, “I cannot stay here - I have to - something is com -,”  
“ _Salacia, I feel you_ ,” his wheezing words filled her head at the same time Henry Turner pointed into the gathering storm and shouted, “REDCOATS!”

“Amphitrite!” Barbossa called up, ignoring her crumbled figure hunching over the balcony rail of the top deck, “Protect our map! Stay your course whatever happens!”

The British Navy ship grew closer and the Black Pearl pulled away, sailing forward with the power and grace of the god that resided upon her,

“If you are a god!” Carina declared to Amphitrite, keeping the wheel steady and looking up to the stars, “Prove to me you are one!” The mortal and the god locked gazes and Amphitrite’s eyes blazed, a heat stirring between the two,

“Gladly,” the clouds above the British ship hardened and thundered, shaking bones and cracking ear drums, fog rolling off the surface of the sea and when she raised her hand; lightning erupted and struck the ship a thousand times. Carina imitated the crew in that she could not stop staring at Amphitrite who was vibrating with a power unbeknownst to them all,

“Stay your course Carina Smyth, I will protect you,” her voice sizzled with grace and Carina tried to slow her trembling hands,

“From what? What else is coming?” She asked worriedly and Amphitrite shook her head,

“What else is here I believe you mean, because the dead are upon us,”

“PREPARE TO BE BOARDED!”

Athena’s spear emerged from the fog and the storm, followed by the Silent Mary who sang with the wails of her crew, swinging round to collide with the Black Pearl. Chaos erupted in the midst of it all, the dead and the living crashing weapons and dodging canon fire. Amphitrite engaged with three shadows at once, a sword of black obsidian materialising in her hand and she fought with the vigour of a - well - a god, keeping the souls of the Spanish away from the helmsman, from Carina who looked up to the heavens for a way out of this hell.

“There!” She cried out suddenly, Amphitrite lifting a wave to wash away her opponents, as if she had grown bored with their little game of swords, “That has to be it,” she pointed at the three stars up in the sky, a fourth appearing and Amphitrite took Carina’s outstretched hand, forcing her down so she could swipe at a smartly dressed, rather solid looking lieutenant,

“Salacia?” He said in disbelief but the god banished him from her sights with a brashly aimed bolt of lightning,   
“Keep going Carina,” Amphitrite struggled for a moment, wave of crackling energy vibrating through her bones and settling in her soul, “None shall stand in your way,” they looked beyond the fighting, beyond the armies massing, beyond the colliding of ships and swords, beyond the fires on the Pearl, out towards where a black mass lay on the path of their course,

“An island!” Carina shouted out, “Look!” But Amphitrite was not looking at where she was pointing, watching the bust on the point of the Silent Mary turn its head and raise its sharpened spear,

“Athena?”

“Your sister?” Henry Turner came up to stand beside the two, looking at the wood turn to metal and shine with rust in the dappled moonlight,

“My dear old cousin,” Amphitrite gave a disheartening sigh, rolling her sword around in her hand before planting it in the deck, “We can’t have a cursed ship imitating a god now can we, that is the deepest of all blasphemies,” the Pearl and the Silent Mary collided once more before moving away, crew from the dead boarding once more, overwhelming the living but Amphitrite stalked forwards, the sea responding to her movements with gurgles and moans, rooting her feet to the wood and thrusting her fists upwards. Silence erupted over the deck of the Black Pearl as a wall of water lifted into the sky, blocking out the moon for a moment before crashing down upon the Silent Mary with the snatching of Amphitrite’s hands, sinking the stern below the waves and locking a hold of the bust of Athena, curling around the rotten wood and rusting metal like the limbs of a thousand octopi. A wailing groan came from the faceless muse as it was dragged below the waves,

“Couldn’t have done that a little earlier?” Henry said irately but he held a triumphant grin on his face, watching Amphitrite wrench her sword free and she took a hold of his shoulder, fisting his shirt,

“Men do not command me,” she gave Carina a sly wink, receiving a quirked smile in return and she thrust Henry down the steps from the top deck, parrying the sword of a ghost who had taken his place, “I command men,”

The ghost fell when he blade struck his heart and dust blew over her bare feet, only for another to take his place,

“The island!” The voice of Jack Sparrow filtered through the crowds upon the Pearl, her eyes spotting him fleeing the wrath of the dead, black blood dripping down a cracked neck,

“This is it!” Carina called, moving the wheel so the stern of the Pearl aimed for land, where they would be safe. Amphitrite flitted around her, waving and driving her sword to keep the shadows at bay, not noticing one advancing on her with eyes as wide as the stars and teeth as black as the night,

“ _Salacia_!” He shouted and she whirled around in fire and rage,   
“Will you,” she leapt in front of him, “stop,” she brought her sword down on his, “saying my name!” They fought as they had in life, in the past though their touches were not flirting or heated from lust; her’s were hard and brutal, full of the rage expelled with every rattle of his dying breath and his were precise movements, practised over decades and perfected through the curse brought on him by the sea.

“You deceived me!” Salazar kicked her in the gut but Amphitrite retaliated with a slice to his shoulder, the pain hot and raw from her blade, “What have you done?”

“I am on the side of the seas, I protect them and if I have to protect them from you; I will!” Her voice raced through him and she let the fog curl around her body, encasing her in a hard shell of power that spat sparks when Salazar brought his blade to her throat. A scream pierced the night and Amphitrite looked up to Carina, seeing several shadows making passes at Henry Turner who was visibly beginning to tire. She looked at Salazar with a kind regret before splitting from his sight, pushing the fog and smoke into his face but he only chased her up the steps to the top deck, grasping at the flitting material of her dress and feeling it rip when her strength prevented him from dragging her back,

“Stay!” The way Amphitrite fought off the dead and enclosed herself around Carina, holding her hands over the mortals to steady the wheel, “Land!”

Salazar’s crew wailed out as one, abandoning their fights for the Silent Mary, retreating to the safety of her protection and someone shouted for their Captain, shouted for him to return to them. A sword caught his as he aimed for Amphitrite, thrusting him away and the Turner boy challenged him to a fight, holding his sword in blistered and shaking hands, blood dripping from his nose.

Carina saw the ghost of the captain knock Henry’s sword away and grabbed at him, taking a running leap over the side of the Black Pearl,

“Henry!” She screamed out, throwing herself from behind the wheel of the ship, leaving Amphitrite to steer it away from rocks like razors and cliffs shrouded in darkness, “They took Henry!”


	10. Chapter 10

The trident was the key to all, the key to freeing the curses, the key to reclaiming Henry Turner from the grasp of the dead. And the only way to it was hidden in the head of Carina Smyth, and the gem held in her fingers. Amphitrite stood next to Jack Sparrow and Barbossa, surrounded by diamonds, rubies and sapphires, the very air of the island filling her with a new lease of life, a weight lifting from her shoulders with every tiny movement of Carin’s body; the flickering of her eyelashes, the tensing of the muscles in her fingers as she placed the shard of ruby back into its rightful place, nestling it within a larger one. The sun burst with light and illuminated the rubies, three becoming two, and then two becoming one, connected with a beam of crimson light that hit Amphitrite straight in the chest, her skin singing with the gentle burn. They saw the scar on her chest glow with the sun, emitting a new light, one of gold and white, a low humming filling their ears and the ground began to shake, shuddering with an earthquake that parted the seas behind her,

“The trident,” Jack muttered with a smile, eyeing Barbossa who had the same thought at him, returning their gaze to the body of Amphitrite. The ground shattered beneath them, falling away down the path the sea had created, sending Jack, Carina and Amphitrite to the bottom of the ocean, leaving Barbossa alone on land. The three of them looked around in awe, the sea raising around them on both sides, forming walls they could walk between, navigating around coral banks and towers of rock that sparked something deep inside the god, as if there was some familiar power, as if her kin had created this place for her to walk down, for her to journey when the time was right,

“There! Look there it is!” Carina suddenly broke away from them, “The trident!” Amphitrite looked upwards where, stood atop a mount, was a three pronged weapon with a golden gem sat in its hilt, beating like a heart, beating like it was alive. Jack looked down at her, at that scar they had been so interested in ever since the mere mention of a trident and he realised something, his face falling with the thought, the thought that maybe this place, this tomb; was hers.

“Jack Sparrow!” A familiar shout shattered his thoughts, pausing his hand reaching for Amphitrite and a lithe figure leapt out from over a coral reef, raising his sword and bringing it down on Jack, knocking the god out of the way,

“The trident!” Carina was already at the top of the mount, her hands gripping the weapon and rocking it where it stood, trying to break it of the confines of the rock, “Help me!” She called down to Amphitrite and she looked back at Jack, battling whether to join the fight with Henry who smelt suspiciously of burning wood and rotting corpses, or aid the girl with the map, “It’s too heavy! I can’t -,”

“Here,” Amphitrite appeared next to Carina, both woman soaked to the skin from the sea spray leeching from the walls surrounding them, “It’s rooted tight, just push!” She reached for the staff and her fingers burned, a scream dying in her throat when she pushed against the pain, shocking Carina when the skin on her hands turned back and cracked, a gentle amber light issuing from between the cracks and rivulets. With a shout of strength, of pain, Amphitrite wrenched the trident from its plinth and the resonating shock wave sent her flying off the mount, landing a few feet away from Carina who had suffered the same fate. The breath had been blown from her lungs, back arching in pain and her hands clawed at the dark sand beneath her,   
“Ah,” she gasped, feeling claws sink into her back and take a hold of her soul, the fingers morphing into a singular point that pierced her heart. A face came into view, a familiar one with greying facial hair and watery green eyes, holding her shoulder and thrusting something into her, something sharp, something powerful, something of her own making, “No!”

Salazar stood to his fullest height, wielding the trident as her brother had once upon a time, the body of Henry Turner dropping to the floor,   
“ _Hola Sparrow_!”

Jack squeaked and Amphitrite rolled on to her knees, hand to her heart, tears streaking her cheeks, watching how Salazar thrust the trident this way and that, controlling the sea like he had done for a thousand years.

But Amphitrite had controlled it for a hundred thousand, and by her own hands, her own voice, her own soul. She leapt in front of Jack, pushing her arms out in an X shape, the sheer power resonating from her, forcing the torrent of water Salazar sent towards them around her. The jet stopped and Amphitrite stood up to him, lowering her fists as he lowered the trident,

“Stop this,” the god told the dead, “Please,”

Another wave of water was sent towards Jack and Amphitrite knocked into it, pushing the pirate behind her and she held his hand,

“I’ll distract him,” she told him, “Get the trident,”

Amphitrite absorbed the salt water and let out a colossal cry, a shock wave throwing everyone to the ground, knocking Salazar down but he did not let go of the trident. She rose up again, curling her fingers and giving herself to the power of the sea, letting it consume her, letting it feast on her soul,

“Salazar!” Her tongue held a thousand voices, coming towards him with her arms outstretched, clawing at the walls of water with a look on her face that nearly had him on his knees before her. The walls collapsed suddenly, drowning them all for a moment before retreating, allowing Amphitrite to jump on him with her black sword, twirling and shimmying from the prongs of the trident, from his piercing gaze. All the while, Carina watched them beside Henry, both desperately trying to figure out the secret to the trident, how they could release the curses and free the men of the sea,

“Henry!” Jack Sparrow sliced at Salazar in a surprise ambush, the god and the dead and the mortal all fighting each other for the trident, “Henry!” He shouted again and Carina squeezed her eyes shut,

“The power of the sea, to release it; one must divide,” the boy spoke clearly, “Divide,” they both looked at Amphitrite and the way she flinched from the path of the trident, as if being near it pained her greatly and they saw the scar on her chest, they saw it glow and bruise, they saw the shape, the three prongs and the long staff; an exact image of the weapon held by Salazar. They saw something flash in her eyes, glowing beneath her skin and settling on her chest where they noticed a scar, red and raw, bleeding and burning, shaped like a trident.

“She’s the trident! To release the power of the sea, the trident must break!” Henry threw himself forward, pushing past Amphitrite to get to where Salazar was advancing on Jack, advancing with the point of the trident aiming for his beating heart, advancing back into a reef where he stabbed that beating heart maliciously,

“Henry!” Jack held the trident close, the realisation on Salazar’s face evident when he felt the point pierce now skin, being blocked by leather and parchment of the map no man could read. The boy brought his sword down on the trident and it exploded, the gem in the hilt shattering and the staff crumbling into nothing. A sound like two islands colliding shook the ground and the walls of water became still, Henry retreating from Jack and Salazar, retreating from them all and looking for Amphitrite. All of them saw her collapse, crumbling to the ground with black blood seeping from the open wound on her chest. When her body lay as still as the water surrounding them, it broke a dam, the sea roiling and attacking, rearing its foaming heads and slamming against the reefs and rocks; beginning to reclaim what was hers, reaching for the body of her protector with hands made of foaming waves.

But Salazar got there first, lifting her into his arms as life flowed back into his body, into his soul, into his crew who stepped through the wall of water, spluttering for breath they hadn’t felt in years.

“It was never about the trident, the power of the sea -,” Carina appeared over his shoulder and pointed at the three pronged wound on her chest, “Resides in her,”

“What have you done?” He dared not touch Amphitrite, fingers hovering over the wound still spilling crimson blood; human blood, “What have you done?”

“She will be claimed by the sea!” Henry shouted, trying to pull Carina from where Amphitrite lay with Salazar, renewed by life, his curse lifted and nullified. She did not turn from the god, not when the Spanish crew called for their captain and celebrated their new life, not when the Black Pearl appeared at the top of the sea wall and dropped her anchor for the pirates, not when the walls of water began closing in all around them,

“She was the holder of all curses,” Carina said loudly against the raging of the sea, Salazar looking up at her with an anger that slowly dissolved, “And she never knew, a curse of her own for all eternity,”

The truth rang beneath Amphitrite’s eyelids, the day her brothers defiled her and took away her power, her rage which was what made her their nemesis, they could not control her so they had weakened her, made her less of an equal, they had _brutalised_ her. She saw the bolt of Zeus and the trident of Poseidon break into her soul, she saw those weapons become one with her blood as the melding agent, she felt Zeus stroke the wound and punish her, bestowing on her the curses of the sea which she would hold in place of her rage.

The breaking of the weapon of Zeus and Poseidon meant the breaking of her own curse, and the returning of her rage, of her true power. Amphitrite’s eyes snapped open, the amber of her iris’ being engulfed by tendrils of glowing red, touching deep into her mind and filling the holes of her soul and of her heart, filling the spaces where those curses had resided for centuries. She watched Jack, Henry and Carina far above her, lead onwards up the chain of the Black Pearl’s anchor by Barbossa who looked back at her with red eyes, filled with regret and sadness. Many of Salazar’s crew advanced up the anchor too, only in survival because the rage that had filled them, that had filled their captain was gone, returned to its rightful place

“No,” Salazar pressed his fumbling fingers into the wound, “No, _mi amour_ no,”

“Let me go,” Amphitrite spluttered a little, wiping her mouth of the black blood, slowly lightening to red with each breath she huffed out,

“You cannot, no I will not let you,” that rage was back, that golden rage that showed in his eyes and rippled his skin, “We will swim, I will save you Amphitrite,” it was the first time he had said her name in her language, and she smiled sadly,

“The Silent Mary will sail on,” the water was pressing against them all, but Salazar never moved, never looking away from her dwindling eyes, “She is waiting for you,”

“No, I will not,” he struggled when Amphitrite pushed out of his arms, laying her mouth over his and breathing him in, “Please,”

Salazar was swallowed by the water as the walls joined, slamming against the currents but finding his chest was not short of breath and his eyes did not sting with the salt. The bubbles and froth cleared after a moment and a shadow passed overhead, the familiar sight of his ship coming into view above him but Salazar looked down to the sea bed, finding it empty of coral, of rocks, of sunken ships, of kelp, of creatures, of Amphitrite. The floor was only light rippled sand, for miles all around him, flickering silver fish swam in clusters below him, as they did in any part of the Caribbean.


	11. Chapter 11

Poseidon kept his fist tight around Amphitrite’s body, carving through the oceans faster than any fish or current, diving to the deepest and coldest depths where the sea bed opened up to his domain, far from the light of the sun but glowing with an ethereal amber haze, as if a thousand fires were light in the very waters around it. Towering structures reached up into the inky blackness, creatures with human torsos and aquatic tails, swimming from structure to structure in groups or alone, accompanied by fish or sharks, or string rays bigger than the sails of a mighty ship. The king of the seas headed into the largest structure, a building of molten stone, decorated with bones of both humans and fish, shipwrecks of all nationalities and size making up a huge throne at the end of a huge room lit by thousands of glowing crystals embedded in the ceiling.

He lay Amphitrite on a bed of green kelp, shrinking his body so he was relatively human sized and hovering his fingers over the tri-pronged wound on her chest,

“Oh my sister,” he sighed, feeling her body twitch,

“What did you do!” Amphitrite threw him away from her with an invisible force, not caring for the way he careened into a pillar of marble, “You defiled me!”

“It was to protect you!” Poseidon didn’t retaliate because he knew that there was no matching her power, “Zeus wanted -,”

“NO!” Her rage threatened to crumble the building, cracks appearing beneath where she stood, “Do not talk to me of protection! Zeus always feared my power! You both did! All of you did!” Clusters of stone fell from the ceiling and orange lava seeped from the floor, “That is why you condemned me to the sea, that is why you - you - ,”

There was no words to describe what they did to her, destroying the one thing she had over them all; her emotion, her rage, her anger which fuelled the power of the earth.

“We were keeping you safe,” Poseidon was on his knees before her, holding her hands in his, “I was keeping you safe, I built the trident and made it so that it could be broken, so that you could one day be free when you had the control,”

“You don’t understand do you brother?” The crumbling of the sea lessened to silence, the lava returning to the depths of the earth, the stone around them floating back up to where they originated, the cracks all around them regrowing into solid walls, “I always had control, you just felt threatened by it,”

“Amphitrite,” Poseidon began, “Return to Olympus, show our brothers this power, show them how you hold command over it and they will welcome you, forgive you,” that anger returned to her eyes, piercing him and pinning him to his throne of stone and jewels,

“Ah brother, why should they forgive me? I have done nothing wrong,” she simpered, “There is no place on that filthy mountain for me, there never was because I am made of the earth, the sea and the sky, I will protect this realm from you and your kin,” Amphitrite retreated from the palace, letting Poseidon fall free of her hold, “And if Zeus sees me as a threat, then I shall become one,”

 

Dusk was always a beautiful time for the Salazar, standing at the end of the dock on an isle somewhere in the Caribbean, looking out at sea to where his ship sat in all its former glory, as if it had never sailed into that cave and been filled with the explosive rage of its crew. It was warm, the sun beating across the horizon with rays of orange, pink and red. He breathed in the sea, the salt, the sun itself. He breathed in her hair, her skin, the spray left behind when she disappeared from his arms, her words when she spoke against his mouth.

“Amphitrite,” he muttered, barely moving his lips, “ _Salacia_ ,”

There was a splash in the water below him, his eyes snapping open and his face was reflected up at him, a mirror made of moving glass. Something else was down there, a silver flash, slick and streamlined, a burst of gold and amber caught the light and he held his breath, falling to his knees and pushing his face as close to the water as possible,

“Salacia,” he trembled, pushing his hand into the water, not caring for how wet his sleeves got, “Please,” a cheek rested in his palm, a face looming out of the water, coming up with his hand, “You-,”

“I am here,” both of his hands clutched her jaw and she held fast on to his wrists, her eyes shining with the sun, “Armando,”

“Salacia,” she lifted herself up and into his personal space, kissing him, careening into him, pushing herself up on to the dock with her hands. Salazar pressed his arms around her waist to keep her from returning to the ocean, holding her fast and hard.

The setting sun illuminated the two, an unorthodox couple, one from the Spanish Navy and one with the power of a god, but the life of a human; both sorrowful and apologetic, passionate with with actions but soft with their thoughts. They embraced tightly, Salazar pushing his face into her neck but Amphitrite only looked forwards, eyes sizzling with a red fury that swelled her heart and pounded into her soul.


End file.
